I'm keeping my notice just in case deleting it erases the reviews written for that post.
I got my adapter! It took a week to get my refund and new adapter (which was NOT express delivery and was delivered within four days, which I find kind of ironic), but it only took two days to write up the chapter after this so that's something.
Shout out to all my amazing reviewers, you guys have been so patient and supportive, I seriously brag about you to my friends all the time. So sorry for the delay, this is a relatively small chapter, but the one afterward is the biggest yet!
Because of the adapter, a lot of reviews that need responses were backed up, so this is going to be a big author note. I've got a lot to address.
Ahem.
Pri3y- Yes, Harry looks sort of like a half stripped I, Robot robot. When someone finally gives him some real armor and upgrades, he will look a bit different. I'm still thinking about paint and body types.
Kai19- Megatron decided to ignore his own misgivings on giving Harry a long name anyway. Couldn't help himself. He ended up regretting it when Harry had no idea how to fully pronounce it, haha!
SleepyMangaHead- While Harry is going to remain a boy (or mech, I guess) due the Allspark needing to conserve the energy necessary to construct the rest of his body during creation, and then to both intervene later on and remain active under duress, that fact is kind of inconsequential considering he's not to going hit maturity for another thousand years and thus be completely identifiable.
Penny is wise- No, Megatron does not know Flicker was once human. He thinks the Allspark glitched out and managed to create a sparkling- and because of the lack of raw materials created a sparkling that is completely unequipped with most essentials. He's pretty much blaming any of Harry's problems with functioning on the Allspark and lack of parental units.
Nexia Jazilynn Prime- Thank you for taking the time to explain the spark system to me, seems pretty consistent with most universes. However, I gotta bend to Micheal Bay's questionable terms and keep things mostly reliant on the Allspark to ensure it remains important to the plot. So I am sticking to my theory for this story. The Allspark is their only hope for the continuation of their race because of the extremely reduced population and severe famine on their totaled planet.
I'm not answering anything directly plot related. You'll just have to wait and see.
I'm writing this chapter from the perspective of another SS agent. I thought it would be fun to paint him in a sort of protagonist light, but have the previous context make him a pretty awful villain. It also helps explain what happened to poor Harry.
WARNING: For some reason all my Sector Seven agents end up potty mouths, this guy is no exception.
DISCLAIMER: See PROLOGUE.
Frank's grandfather would never forgive him if he died carrying out this incredibly idiotic order. Hell, Frank would never forgive himself if he died carrying out this incredibly idiotic order. He had been against the idea from the start and had caved under threat of insubordinace charges. What the hell did the top brass want with such a monster anyway?
The morons didn't have a shred of sympathy for the two agents who actually had to gather the information themselves, all they cared about was results. Frank had known that getting into SS, but he had never thought such callousness could ever do him harm, he was on their side after all. He should have seen this coming, from the second they gave him a slimy smile and a badge he couldn't legally use.
Frank never thought he would literally be sacrificed, either. Not when he was a government agent, not when he was living in America as a non-virginal man. That kinda shit only lived in fairy tales and tribal islands, or so he had thought. But this was definitely a case of human sacrifice, because if sticking an important general in quarantine after he existed near the objective didn't mean we-think-this-is-ridiculously-deadly, he didn't know what was. If Frank hadn't already seen other SS agents tear cops apart, he would be calling to report his violated human rights in a heartbeat.
Three twitchy little scientists darted into the room, carting their equipment like it was their life savings. Frank could tell immediately they were part of the newest project, the loose skin of hastily dropped weight, the bags under their eyes, the green tint to their skin, it was obvious. No one wanted to be a part of this.
Opening the cases, one of the scientists turned to Frank. "This is your armored suit. It's been tested and approved for this exercise. Now stand still." The clipped, cold tone was not a mark of his stress, it was rather normal in the secret base. Frank understood it well, he matched it easily.
Frank did as he was told and didn't move a muscle as the scientists pulled out a heavy helmet that covered everything to his shoulders neck in thick armor and shoved it onto his head. Another was clipping two sides of an armored chest to his uniform, encasing him like a plastic egg. It was stiff and weighed him down, for a brief moment he wondered whether they were actually feeding him to the mechanical demon.
The armor was followed by equally padded pants, and ridiculously thick gloves and boots. There was no way Frank could hold a weapon, he could barely wiggle his fingers. Perhaps sensing his incredulous glare past the steely visor of the helmet, The lead scientist held out a significantly smaller case.
"Most of the testing includes physical attacks, but you are to use these at least once." And with that, he attacked what looked like a cattle prod to a latch on his wrist and a small knife to the other.
"Anything else?" Frank asked, admittedly stalling his entrance. He regretted his choice to enter SS with all his heart now, how could he have ever thought entering such a tightly secure and silent sector could have been a road to success?
"If it cuts through the armor, back off." Well that was just cruel, Frank hadn't thought the scientists' hateful demeanor ran so far as to mock him in what might be his final moments. At least he had signed up as a guard and not a geek, but then again, the geeks were staying behind the thick protective wall.
Not bothering to respond to the dry taunt, he pulled himself together and began his shaky trek to the room. He had only seen the abomination once, in the file alongside his orders. It had haunted his nightmares for the three days it took to organize the procedure. Searing bright circles placed side by side on what could barely be called a face. Spiny thin arms and legs stuck out and ended in deadly claws. It looked as though it had been made to kill, and perhaps it was.
Half way down the hallway, he met with his partner in this suicide mission. Frank couldn't see the other man's face through his helmet, but he took comfort in the fact that the fellow agent was equally strong framed and well built. Maybe they stood a chance. They didn't say anything to each other, they both knew they were facing the entire sector's biggest nightmare. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The NBE buried deep underground was the nightmare, one that was guaranteed to rot there for eternity, this was just the result.
They reached the door, plated with steel and covered in locks and alarms. Swallowing heavily, Frank ignored the sweat beading down his neck and began unlocking the door. The hallway behind them locked itself automatically, keeping them isolated even after the door was opened. Just in case it killed them both quickly enough to make a break for it.
Frank almost leapt back as the door clicked open, already he could hear the thing inside. The constant clicking and humming was also in the report, but it made it no less creepy. Goosebumps rose as they both stepped inside after the unspoken agreed upon signal was given. The sight, even shaded by his visor, was one he'll never get out of his head.
The robot was tucked in a corner, silver knees drawn up with its arms as if it was mimicking the child it used to be. The glowing diamond in the center of its chest half hidden from view caught his eye, but his attention was quickly snatched by the wickedly sharp claws on both its hands and feet, if he could call them that.
Short and nimble, disturbingly alike to fingers and toes, but sharp enough to leave scrapes and scratches against the cement floor. Frank took a shaky step forward right alongside his partner.
It was twisting and squirming in a manner that looked uncomfortable, giving whines and chirps at random times. Was it speaking to itself? He had seen the tiny robots the box had created just like every other agent, why did they all babble so quickly?
Taking in a fortifying breath, Frank took another step forward and raised his hand. An apology went out to his grandfather and dog, he would be leaving them without a reason to even justify his existence. Why hadn't he just become a doctor like his mother had wanted? So what if the hours sucked? He wouldn't be about to smack a killing machine like a stupid monkey.
Before he had even begun to make it half way across the room, the thing stiffened and twisted around. Those horrifically bright circles focusing with a clarity that gave him chills. The tiny slot of a mouth opened wide, and half audible jabbering filtered through. Was it threatening them? Frank took another step, his partner mirroring him.
The robot scrabbled to its feet, and Frank winced as those clawed toes raked against the cement loudly as it tried to gain purchase. As was reported, it had poor motor skills. Ugh, why hadn't anyone destroyed this thing yet? It was almost nauseating to look at, it shouldn't exist. So wrong.
He took another step and the creature threw out its arms and gave a rapid ping, leaning against the wall. Frank flinched away, but nothing happened. No spikes flew from its palms, it didn't throw itself at him, just remained swinging its limbs around like it had epilepsy.
A glance told him his silent partner hadn't flinched, poor guy might have just shut down from the terror. Still, he was close enough to give the thing a glancing blow, which he did without hesitation. Frank admired his bravery, watching his partner's glove in case it suddenly disintegrated from touching the thing. It didn't, and Frank moved forward for his own attack.
The monster had fallen back to the floor from the smack, but was already on its knees, warbling like a dog whistle. Frank brought his fist down on its shoulder, sending it flying away from the wall. Carefully, as the instructions had told him, he watched the robot's response.
It fell to the floor with another whistle, claws wrapped around its upper torso, perhaps to protect it. Were upper attacks more powerful than lower aimed attacks? There wasn't a dent where he placed the blow, so the robot was strong under pressure.
Finished with his assessment, he moved forward to snatch an arm and give it a tug, swinging the shockingly light monster into the wall. It still hadn't attacked, unless the painfully high pitched sounds it was emitting counted. The joint also looked completely unharmed, from what he could see with the robot clutching at it. Was it inspecting itself as well? He didn't want to dwell on that.
His partner approached and pinned it to the wall by what might have been its neck. It spluttered and scratched at his gloved hands, claws scraping right through the paint and cloth and striking against the armor. Frank didn't want to know what it could do with flesh and bone, and began striking at pinpoint areas before the other man began to panic.
The gears and wires were surprisingly durable, and the glowing diamond in its chest only blinked once after a solid blow. The neck was obviously not very vulnerable, but the head looked shockingly fragile. The face was fucking terrifying, but at the back of the head was just black and blinking lights, like what he'd picture the inside of a computer to look like. He didn't dare hit it there, and backed off.
His partner did the same, dropping the robot to slump against the ground with another shriek. A single attack to cut deep and pure physical attacks only make it's sound response louder. A scary combination. Were they even fazing it? A single look was all it took to communicate with his partner that it was time to use their tools before finally retreating.
Pulling the prod from where it was clipped to the side of his wrist, he jabbed it quickly against the monster. The cattle prod made a dull buzz and the robot keened at a level that could have shattered his visor. He let the prod drop and examined where he'd landed it.
A black scorch mark was burnt onto the silver shoulder, above the diamond, and Frank knew it was sensitive to electricity. How ironic, were robots usually vulnerable to their own energy? Then again, he had no idea what this thing ran on, it could be radioactive.
The robot suddenly lunged, taking him off guard, and smacked the prod out of his hand with a force it hadn't possessed before. Satisfied with his discovery and not ready to test its aggression, he leapt away and let the other man take a couple slashes with the knife.
It was completely ineffective, even less so than the punches. Sliding harmlessly against the chest and chipping after straight stabs. The freaky thing was curled up in a ball now, hissing like a motor. Frank shuddered and snatched up his prod. They had completed their objective with only a ruined glove to prove it. Frank hadn't even thought to pray for such good results the night before.
It seemed they both decided not to look that gift horse in the mouth, because with a twitch of his head, they shared another glance of understanding. After five seconds of silence, both men were barreling out of the room as though their lives depended on it. It probably did. The door slid shut behind them, and the robot hadn't followed. A miracle, pure and simple.
Typing in the password for the hallway door, they were allowed back into the base and into the arms of curious scientists. Frank tossed the prod to the ground, yanked his helmet off, and took a deep breath of fresh air. God, that had been awful. He must have bumped off a good ten years of his life.
"So?" The scientists snapped impatiently, as Frank sank to the floor with a shiver.
"Give me a damn minute." He growled right back, tossing his knife away too, letting it drop to the floor carelessly. This was apparently the wrong thing to say as everyone else pursed their lips and narrowed their eyes as if he had cursed out their mothers. Good lord, had he managed to saddle himself with the types of guys who couldn't handle anything but rulebook procedures?
"Do I need to remind you of how important this is? Sector Seven needs to know just how dangerous this thing is! How can we hope to address this properly if we can't even give it a detailed profile? You were sent in there to evaluate its danger level and you better damn well have evaluated it!" It was the lead scientist again, his face drawn into a deep scowl.
Frank surged to his feet and yanked the scientist off his feet by the collar of his stupid lab coat. Ignoring the spluttered protests of the others, he looked the other man in the eye and spat. "Just nuke the goddamned thing already! Who the hell cares if it's good at deflecting knives or bad at dodging? It shouldn't even be hear in the first place, you arrogant wannabe gods!"
The scientist grabbed his suit and pulled himself even closer, much to Frank's surprise, eyes gleaming. "Was it? Vulnerable to quick attacks? Difficult to harm with steel?" Frank dropped the scientist in disgust, pulling the rest of his suit off and throwing them at the others, hard. Why had he even bothered? The adrenaline from his task must be messing with his brain if Frank thought for even a second that a low ranked lab rat like him could have made an ounce of a difference with these psychos.
"Bad with dodging, bad with attacks, bad with balance. Very vulnerable to shocks, mildly affected by physical force, and completely unaffected by knives. The claws were sharp enough to rip through the gloves down to the metal." Frank rattled off obediently, stalking out of the room without looking back. If he stayed in that room any longer he was going to deck the pack of emotionless dicks. What did they need his personal experience for anyway? The camera had been on the entire time, they had the recording. So greedy, what did they think they'd miss otherwise?
He could already hear them chattering to each other in hushed tones, but he didn't care what they were talking about. All he cared about was getting out of SS. This place was way more dangerous than he thought it was going to be, and there was no way in hell Frank was going to just sit in the ticking time bomb and wait for the monsters to kill everyone from within. Jurassic Park had taught him enough.
Without any direct orders, he could request a transfer right? It's not like they could keep him inside the sector for the rest of his career just to keep him silent, right?
Right?
See? He gets his punishment for hurting poor Harry in the end. I'll switch to Harry's perspective for the effects of the attack in the next chapter.
In case anyone was confused, SS is trying to decide whether or not Harry can be experimented on. The whole was-once-human thing has them wondering if they should just destroy him.
I'd like to thank everyone for their responses to the notice. Seriously, I love writing for you all. I think I'm making my author friends jealous with such great reviewers. XD